


When we were young

by leighwrites



Series: Leigh's Request Time [6]
Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff and Angst, I don't know how this happened, I'M SORRY ABOUT HOW ANGSTY IT GOT, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 09:50:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15660777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighwrites/pseuds/leighwrites
Summary: When they were young, life threw everything it could at them to try and make them quit; from other-worldly creatures they couldn’t remember the name of to the breaking up of their group.





	When we were young

**1989**

“Thu-hey won’t listen.” Bill drew his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “I tuh-hold them what happened and thu-hey told me I was muh-haking it up.”

Mike reached out and grabbed one of Bill’s hands, squeezing it lightly. The seven of them were scattered around Bill’s bedroom, Richie sitting on the desk and idly swinging his legs back and forth despite the looks of annoyance that Stan kept shooting at him from the desk chair.

“Thu-hey wu-hont even hold a fuh-huneral for him because there  was nu-ho body.”

There was a flinch around the room from his friends. Most of them had grown up being Bill’s friend, and with Bill had come Georgie, which had made Georgie a big part of their life. They deserved to have a way to say goodbye to him.  _ Bill  _ deserved it.

Richie’s hand curled around the edge of the desk, clutching it so hard that Stan was surprised he didn’t break it.

“So we’ll do one.” Richie said firmly. “It doesn’t have to be official. We can do  _ something _ . We can give him some kind of a send off.”

Beverly reached across the bed, placing her hand carefully over Bill’s other hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “He’s right Bill. We’ll all do something.”

“Yeah, all of us together.” Eddie agreed from his spot sitting against the bed; Beverly’s free hand running affectionately through his hair.

A weak smile made its way to Bill’s face. “Thu-hanks guys.”

Mike released Bill’s hand and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You know we’d do anything for you.”

And Bill knew that. Even though Beverly, Ben, and Mike had come to their group late that very year, he could  _ feel  _ it. Mike turned towards where Richie sat to praise him for cheering Bill up so quickly, but Richie was staring down at his lap, knuckles white where he was gripping at the desk.

Whatever was wrong with him was more than just the attitude Bill’s parents had towards Georgie.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Mike asked on their walk back to Richie’s, nudging his elbow gently against the other’s side. “You’ve been unusually quiet.”

Richie opened his mouth to speak, somewhat resembling a fish for a moment before shaking his head and shooting Mike a  small smile . “I’m just tired. We went through a lot in the last week, you know?”

Mike hummed an agreement , though he wasn’t buying it for a second. Richie wasn’t the kind of person to let this stuff bother him on the outside. Which meant that there was something  _ seriously  _ wrong with him.

“Richie. You know if - if there’s anything you need to talk about -”

“I know.” Richie looped an arm casually around Mike’s shoulder’s with a grin. “Your concern is very touching , Mikey!”

Mike laughed and playfully shoved him off, dropping the subject for now. They were supposed to be enjoying themselves now that the clown was gone; doing things that other kids their age had been doing while they’d been crawling through abandoned houses and stumbling through murky sewers.

Mike didn’t sleep that night, staring up at Richie’s ceiling from the floor while listening to the sounds of the other boy , tossing and turning as he struggled to sleep and failed horribly to do so.

He didn’t mention it the next day when they were getting ready to meet the others.

Instead he laughed along with his friends as Richie  lifted  Eddie up over his shoulder and ran for the edge of the quarry cliff where he jumped off, Eddie shrieking the entire time and smacking his hands against his back. Beverly jumped right after them, performing an impressive spin in the air on her way down before a splash sounded as she hit the water.

The sound of Eddie yelling at Richie floated up from the water with Beverly’s giggles and Richie’s loud laughter before Bill followed suit, leaping from the cliff to join his friends. One by one the rest of them jumped until the seven of them were in the water and laughing; the traumatic battle forgotten for now as they just enjoyed themselves.

It was summer and they were supposed to be having fun.

Beverly pounced on Richie, hoisting herself up onto his shoulders. Richie stumbled slightly from the sudden weight, and Mike let out an ‘ooft’ as Eddie  copied her actions  using him, the two of them suddenly starting a battle to see who could push the other from their perch first.

Eddie won, but only because Richie somehow lost his footing and sent Beverly and himself both plunging into the water.

“Wow , you suck at this , Richie.” Beverly teased, punching him lightly in the shoulder.

  
  


**1991**

 

The problem with growing up was that you eventually grew apart. The Loser’s Club was no exception to the rule. Beverly had been the first to go. It was almost like defeating the clown had lifted some kind of veil from Derry. Greta Keene had one day defended Beverly from a group of girls before dubb ing Beverly her new “best friend forever”.

The two of them could be seen laughing and gossiping in the hallway about boys. It was a freedom Beverly had never really had before, and now she was coming out of her shell. The official rumour around Derry was that someone had broken into Beverly’s apartment and killed her father, and that Beverly herself was lucky to survive because she hadn’t been there.

It gave her a weird kind of fame. A false fame. But she couldn’t correct the rumours. No one would have believed the truth anyway; that thirteen year old Beverly Marsh had taken a piece of the toilet to her own father and bashed him in the head until he’d died.

Beverly started to wear skirts and makeup, and the further  away from the boys she got, the further Ben buried himself into books.

The next to part themselves from the group had been Stan. Sweet, quiet loyal  _ Stan  _ of all people. He’d tried out for the baseball team and became just another jock in the school; though his treatment was a little more desirable than most of them.

He had a new friend named Ryan. They laughed and joked in the hallways or in class, and it wasn’t long before the most prominent thing about Stan was the red and white jacket he was always wearing.

Ben was next, burying himself into books and spending all of his time in the school library with other ‘bookworms’ , as Richie called them. He never stopped watching Beverly from afar, but as his memories of the events around the clown faded, so did his recollection of their kiss.

Their group was down to four now. Bill, Richie, Eddie, and Mike.

“I just don’t get it.” Richie vented one day at the quarry. They still came here regularly on the weekends, even if all they did was sit at the edge of the cliff with their legs dangling from the edge.

“People grow apart Richie, it just happens.” Eddie said, staring down at the quarry water below them. “It shouldn’t, but it does.”

“It’s stupid.”

Mike nodded his agreement. “Yeah. But you still have us. Right , Bill?”

“Ruh-height.” Bill confirmed.

Bill was the next to leave despite his words, joining the track team and dwindling their group down to just three of them.

“I hate this.” Richie groaned into Eddie’s pillow and Mike gave him a sympathetic look before patting his head slightly.

“We hate it too, Chee.” Eddie said, barely looking away from his tv screen. 

The three of them were cramped onto Eddie’s bed for the weekly Loser’s Movie Night. They hadn’t stopped when just one of them had stopped showing up, and they weren’t about to stop just because only the three of them were left in their group. Eddie was wedged against the wall, Richie lying between him and Mike.

None of them were really paying attention to the movie that was playing on the television. Movie nights weren’t the same without Stan or Ben telling Richie to shut up whenever he opened his mouth so they could watch in peace, or Bill laughing, or even Beverly longuing over them all.

Nothing was the same. It was part of growing up , but that didn’t mean they had to like it. The three of them made a promise that night that  _ they  _ at least would remain friends , even when it was time to graduate and leave for college.

They slept in a tangled heap on the bed that night, Richie mostly using Mike as his pillow and bed combination to give Eddie space on his own bed. The comfort of only two other people wasn’t the same as when there had been seven of them.

But it was enough for them because they still had each other. Eddie still had Richie to help him not fall under his mother’s control again, Richie still had Mike to keep him grounded and in check, and Mike still had both of them to make him feel like he wasn’t an outsider at school anymore.

When Richie got braces a month later and people made fun of him and he began to talk less and withdraw, Mike and Eddie were there to make him laugh and smile until he was cracking jokes worthy of his trashmouth name again.

And when Eddie was outed to the entire school by one of the members of the football team who had overheard him talking to his friends about it, Richie was there with tasteless jokes to cheer him up and Mike was there with the comforting hugs that Eddie needed.

And it was enough for them.

  
  


**1993**

  
  


At seventeen Richie had become more withdrawn , to the point that other people had started to notice it too. He didn’t crack as many jokes as he used to, and he buried himself in his work. Because Richie had been suffering nightmares since the summer of ‘89 and he didn’t talk about them , even to his friends.

“Richie, are you sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked one day in the bathroom , after Richie had dropped five books, a tray of food, and somehow collided with his locker door. “You’ve been so spacey lately. We’re worried.”

Richie’s jaw clenched, his fingers curling around the edge of the sink  until he was leaning against  it . “I can’t.”

Mike arched a brow at Richie’s answer. “You can’t what? Talk about it?”

“We understand if you can’t or don’t want to.” Eddie said , trying to keep his voice calm and reassuring despite how worried he was. “We just want to know you’re okay. You’ve been so different lately.”

Richie opened his mouth to formulate a response; maybe even a joke to keep them from asking, but all he could manage was a cracked noise, and it wasn’t long before it turned into sobbing.

“Richie?” Mike asked, taking a careful step forward and placing a hand to his arm. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Richie shook his head and they didn’t push him on the matter. Mike wrapped his arms around him and Richie clutched at him like a lifeline, his fingers digging desperately at the back of Mike’s shirt.

It was a month before Richie showed up at Mike’s farm at one in the morning dressed in the clothes he’d been sleeping in, glasses askew on his face and his hair a tangled mess around his face. That was the night he’d blurted out that he couldn’t sleep anymore because of the nightmares. The nightmares that hit him even in the day.

Because one of his biggest fears had been his friends leaving him , and it had been happening. Mike pulled him into the house, wrapped him in one of the jackets hanging just inside of the door, and led him into the kitchen.

And sure, he’d woken Mike’s mother , who was usually very strict, but one look at the broken boy sitting at their kitchen table had softened her.

Richie started spending a lot more time staying over at Mike’s ,  curled up into the comfort his friend offered at night that lulled him to sleep.

  
  


**1995**

  
  


Eddie, Richie, and Mike had ended up  going to the same college, the three of them sharing a small apartment , about a fifteen minute walk from the campus. Eddie took care of keeping the place immaculate and germ free; mostly because Richie had a lot of band practice on top of work, though he and Mike did their best to help keep the place neat.

Eddie often heard the sounds of Richie leaving his room and heading to Mike’s, but he didn’t think anything of it , until he’d walked in on the two of them curled up in Mike’s bed together , sound asleep , one morning that he’d been gathering their laundry. He found it adorable so he snapped a picture of it for their collection of photographs.

“Hey , can I ask you something?” Eddie adjusted the styrofoam cup in his hand as he and Richie left the local coffee shop, continuing their walk to the campus.

“Sure thing Eds, you know you can ask me anything.” Richie said, one hand wrapped around his cup while the other loosely held the strap of his backpack. “What’s eatin’ ya?”

“I uh.” Eddie paused to take a sip of his coffee, grimacing. “I think this is yours.” They traded drinks quickly before Eddie took a tentative sip and continued. “Do you… like Mike or something? I just… I noticed you spend a lot of time together. I thought maybe you were dating and trying to keep it away from me so I didn’t feel -”

Richie was laughing now, stopping only to take a sip of his coffee. “We’re not dating , Eds.”

“It’s okay if you are. You know I’m not gonna judge you about -”

“Eds. If I was dating anyone you’d be the first to know. I just… it’s because of the nightmares , okay?”

Of course Eddie should have realised that. The day after he’d invaded Mike’s farm because of one he’d told Eddie about them too. Because Eddie was his best friend and he would never tell Mike something and then leave Eddie out.

“He makes you feel better?” Eddie asked.

Richie smiled. “Yeah. Not that you don’t. I mean those blanket forts in high school? Absolutely amazing! Really comforting! It’s just… it’s different with Mike. I don’t think  _ makes me feel better  _ is the right term. I can’t sleep if he’s not there, and when he is there… I feel safe. Yeah. That’s it. Mike makes me feel safe and warm.”

Eddie was the one to smile now, taking another sip of his coffee. “Richie, it sounds like you might like him.”

“Huh.” Richie mused, his fingers tapping against the side of his cup. “You know, I never really considered that before. I never considered who or what I might like.”

“Maybe you should… think about it some time.”

After their conversation Eddie was suddenly around less, and Richie could feel the panic building up inside of him again. Eddie was leaving him too. He was barely at the apartment , and he didn’t wait for Richie on the day they both had classes at the same time , and he wasn’t there when Richie’s class had finished.

Richie was spending even more time with Mike, clutching onto him when they slept , as though he felt like releasing him would make  _ Mike  _ vanish too. Mike was there for him every night, curled around Richie like a comfort blanket. He hated to see him like this. He’d already lost the others, and now he was losing his best friend.

“Eddie.” The sound of Mike’s firm tone had been enough to stall Eddie in his tracks, one hand curled around the handle of the apartment door. “Whatever you’re doing just stop, okay? You’re killing him. He thinks he’s losing you too.”

“He’s not.” Eddie’s hand dropped from the handle to his side. “I’m still here , Mike , it’s just...”

“Just what?” Richie was suddenly there, standing just behind Mike. “Why do you keep leaving? Sometimes you don’t even come back for two days.”

“I -” Eddie swallowed thickly. “I have a boyfriend and I’ve been spending time there because I didn’t know how you’d react.”

Richie’s face softened. “Eddie, you know we’d support you relentlessly no matter what. I’ve literally fought someone over you liking guys because you’re my best friend.”

“Are you… are you sure about that?” Eddie asked, reaching for the door handle again. “Because he’s here right now. He comes to walk me to class and he walks me back. He doesn’t knock. He texts me. And I sneak out before either of you notice. I just - you know them. You know them, and I didn’t know how you’d react to them so I kept it from you and I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t  _ want  _ to but -”

“Eds, breathe.” Richie instructed, stepping around Mike and placing a comforting hand to his shoulder. “I’m sure whoever you’re dating is just fine. I’d rather meet them than think I’m losing  _ you  _ too.”

Eddie flinched, nodded, and opened the door. Richie wasn’t prepared for the person on the other side of the door to be Stan.

But he also couldn’t be happier.

  
  


**1997**

  
  


They were in their last year of college before Richie was hit with the painful realisation that he did, in fact, like Mike as more than a friend. He still found himself heading into Mike’s room whenever he couldn’t sleep, trying his best not to wake him as he crawled into his bed and curled against him. He was always unsuccessful as Mike would wake up and wrap his arms around him before pulling him closer, the two of them drifting back to sleep.

And sometimes even when he  _ didn’t  _ have one his nightmares he would still find himself going to Mike’s room, insisting that it was just a habit by now. Mike didn’t seem to mind either way, always willing to gather Richie in his arms.

It had gotten to the point where one night, Mike opened his door on their way to bed and indicated with his head for Richie to skip the  _ trying  _ to sleep phase and just join him from the start. Richie had done so, telling himself that he was doing this because Mike was  _ offering  _ and that it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact he  _ liked  _ him.

But Richie wasn’t about to admit that to  _ Mike _ . He knew how people saw him. He was the loudmouthed joker, and no one liked that quality in a boyfriend; not that he even knew what Mike was into. So Richie buried his feelings towards his friend, insisting that he  _ didn’t _ like him and that it was just a comfort thing , even when Mike started dating.

Mike’s dating partners were all he needed to confirm that Mike, at the very least, was bisexual, and Richie wondered why he never knew that before now; until he remembered that Eddie was the only one of them who had really come out.

“I was scared,” Stan had blurted out one morning from the kitchen table , as Richie poured himself a coffee

Brow arched, Richie turned to regard Stan as he raised the mug to his mouth. “Do you want to elaborate on that?”

“Even back then I knew what I was into and who I wanted. I thought it was just a crush I could make go away if I threw myself into sports , because if my father found out it wouldn’t have ended well , and he was on my case enough.” Stan chewed at his lip for a moment, eyebrows furrowing. “So I ran. I ran  away rather than telling you, and I should have told you because you were my friends, but it was always easier for me to run , because that’s who I am. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I couldn’t wait for graduation because coming here to California was supposed to help me run, but I ran into Eddie after one of my classes and -”

“You didn’t want to run anymore.” Richie pulled a chair out from the table; sitting directly across from Stan. “You know, it really fucked us up when you just left us like that. We’d lost Beverly and then Ben and… you weren’t supposed to do that , Stan. We were supposed to be friends and you  _ left _ and Eddie was so distraught -”

“I  _ know _ . He told me. When I told Eddie I ran because of how I felt he actually punched me.”

“You deserved it.”

“I did, and I don’t know why you and Mike have been putting up with me for two years after what I did. Eddie told me about  _ you _ too. How you were… and I’m sorry. I didn’t think -”

“You’re right. You  _ didn’t _ think and I’m a little offended because not thinking is  _ my _ job and you’re supposed to be the logical one in this group. And… we’re not  _ putting up with you _ , Stan. What you did… it hurt, a lot… but… you make Eddie happy and that’s all I care about. He knew back then , too.”

“You know, I never thought I’d say this but… I missed you guys. I wanted to come back so many times.”

“Hey, you’re here  _ now _ . You’re okay. Welcome back Stan.”

He didn’t miss the smile that appeared on Stan’s face, even though it quickly faded as though he wasn’t convinced by Richie’s words. Guilt was a powerful thing, but Richie  _ got it _ . He understood. He understood that Stan was shoved under the thumb of religion and never really got to be free and do whatever he wanted.

Until he left for college.

Stan and Richie talked for a little while longer about Stan’s first college year. How he was  _ just  _ breaking out from his religion. He’d dated a few girls but it had never felt right, and he’d always found some way to end it while causing as little pain to the girl as he could.

Because they weren’t Eddie.

His last girlfriend, right before Eddie, went by the name of Patricia, and she had been the most understanding person Stan had met outside of the losers club. When he’d pretty much broken down about how guilty he’d felt for asking her out in the first place, she’d pet him on the shoulder and told him to get out there and get his man.

Richie had missed this. The two of them sitting there and talking about anything and everything personal. And yeah, he was still kind of mad that Stan had run away from them rather than trusting them with this sooner but it was overpowered by how nice it was to have his friend back.

Because Stan was his friend first and he always would be.

And Stan was the only one who came back.

  
  


**1999**

 

At twenty-three they had been in the real world for two years thanks to graduation. Richie had managed to get a job pretty quickly on some night time radio show, and he wouldn’t return until around one in the morning. Mike barely dated anymore after a particularly rough break up, and Eddie moved out to live with Stan once his college roommate had moved out.

Richie returned home from the radio station one night to see that Mike was still up, sitting on the sofa in their small living room with a mug of what Richie assumed to be either coffee or hot chocolate ,  while he watched some television show that Richie didn’t know the name of.

“Damn Mikey, I never pegged you for the night owl type.” Richie said, locking the door behind him (a habit he had picked up from Eddie scolding him about never locking it), kicking his shoes off. “Any reason you’re still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Mike raised the mug to his mouth and took a sip. “How was work?”

“Tiring.” Richie stifled a yawn with his hand. “I thought you had a date tonight?”

“I cancelled.” Mike’s eyes never left the television screen , but Richie knew he wasn’t paying attention to it.

“I’ve never known you to cancel a date.” Richie hummed, unzipping his jacket and tossing it onto the coat hooks by the door, completely missing the mark as the jacket scraped just under the hooks and fell into a heap on the floor. “Did he say something to upset you?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

Richie approached, dropping himself onto the sofa and kicking his feet up onto the coffee table, stretching out comfortably with a yawn. “Then why’d you cancel the date?”

“Richie...” The tone Mike used was one that Richie was familiar with. It was the same one that he’d used on Eddie when he’d caught him trying to sneak from the apartment the day they’d found out about Stan. It was the tone that demanded your full attention.

Richie tilted his head in Mike’s direction, glasses slipping somewhat awkwardly down his face. “Yeah?”

Mike didn’t say anything, simply staring at him for a moment. He was tired of this. Tired of Richie being so damn oblivious and obvious at the same time. Instead of answering him, Mike reached out, settling his hand against the side of Richie’s neck before pressing their lips together.

It was brief, but the frustration was clear in it, and when he pulled back there was a noticeable tint of red to Richie’s face. “O-oh.”

“You’re an idiot.” Mike muttered, his breath ghosting over Richie’s lips. “I’ve liked you since we were sixteen, I just didn’t know how to approach this and tell you.”

Richie blinked almost owlishly, a soft smile coming to his face. “This seems to work just fine , Mikey. Please always do kiss me when you’re frustrated.”

Mike rolled his eyes and leaned in again, connecting their mouths once more.

And they weren’t just Richie and Mike anymore. They were Richie  _ and  _ Mike. They were a couple, and when Richie’s mother came for a visit she was ecstatic; wanting to know absolutely everything she could about Mike even though she already knew quite a bit from when they’d still lived in Derry.

And Richie didn’t need a guise or a nightmare to crawl into Mike’s bed anymore. He just walked right into Mike’s room every night and curled up in his arms to sleep. The position never lasted, and Mike would wake up with Richie sprawled all over him.

But he wouldn’t have it any other way because Richie was everything to him, and had been since the summer they’d met. Not that he could remember everything from back then , other than the fact it was when they’d become friends.

And Mike decide d that the circumstances of how they met didn’t matter. Nothing about Derry mattered. The only good thing to come from Derry had been his friends and Richie anyway, and Mike was going to enjoy every second he had with Richie.

Stan had laughed and said that Mike deserved a medal if he was going to put with Richie as a dating partner (though it was all in good nature , and even Richie had laughed and high-fived Stan; their first actual high-five) while Eddie had been completely thrilled that they had finally stopped dancing around the issue and bec a me a couple; demanding to know how it happened and when.

Sure, the story hadn’t been as thrilling and entrancing as Eddie’s , about how he and Stan had slowly started to get to know each other again before decid ing anything, and Stan was somewhat of a romantic , they’d learned, but it was enough.

Because Mike and Richie had been at each other’s side ever  since the first week they’d returned to school , back in 1989. 

They’d slow-burned themselves enough over the years of avoiding how they felt about each other without adding more to it , now as adults. Their story was fitting enough for them and they were happy. 

That was all that mattered.

 


End file.
